Cynosure
by Angst Is My Middle Name
Summary: Dean's soul has always been bright and beautiful to Cas, like a beacon in the darkest night. (Sort of stream of consciousness, Cas 1st person POV). Slight Destiel.


_**Cynosure: **_

_**noun;**_

_**something that attracts attention by its brilliance, interest, etc…**_

It is very dark and very quiet when I wake in the middle of the night. I wonder why I have done so. I am not too hot or cold. I am neither hungry nor thirsty nor do I have any need to use the toilet. I simply feel… uneasy. The dark does not worry me, no shadows seeming to be monsters standing out or terrifying me. I carefully get out of bed, a shiver running through my body as my bare feet touch the cold floor. _Why is this happening?_ I wonder as grope my way through the dark bunker, _Why have I woken so suddenly and without cause?_

The silence is nearly unbearable to me after my eons of chatter from my brothers and sisters; I do not mind the darkness nearly as much. I am surprised to find I have stopped, and I realize I have made my way to your door. I am not entirely sure how I did so in the dark. I hover briefly outside the door, unsure of what to do or why my feet have brought me here, when I hear a muffled noise from within. You have previously threatened physical violence on anyone who would dare violate your inner sanctum, yet I cannot help but open your door and go in. The need to make sure you are safe is overwhelming.

From the bare light of a small clock face (which tells me it is 2:41 AM), I can see you in your bed, gently tossing and turning, and I know innately that you are being plagued by a nightmare as you often are. I move closer, wishing to take away your evil dream, but even as I rest my hand on your cheek, I remember that I can do nothing to help you anymore. I no longer have my Grace. I no longer have any power to help you in the ways I once did. Still, I find it difficult to leave your side, to pull my hand away from your face, even when I see your eyes open and look up at me in question.

"You… you were having a nightmare," I say simply.

"I know I was."

"I wanted to help, Dean."

"How did you know I was having a nightmare?" you ask.

I am glad for the darkness so you cannot see me blush when I reply, "I do not know. I woke unexpectedly and seemingly without reason. When I rose from bed, my feet led me here. I believe that even though I no longer have my Grace, our bond is still intact, allowing me to feel your distress."

"And, just curious, Cas, how did you expect to help without your voodoo?"

"I do not know."

You place your hand over mine and push yourself into a sitting position before pulling me down to sit beside you on the bed. I feel your fingers press into my skin, squeezing my hand. They feel warm. Your eyes are bright in the darkness, and I cannot look away, not even for a second. I love moments like this, when you show me your true self, your caring soul beneath the gruff exterior. You close your eyes, breaking their hold over me.

"I don't deserve you, Cas," you say softly, "You've done so much for me, and I can't do a damn thing for you in return."

"What do you mean? I can do nothing for you anymore, not to alleviate your pain or your nightmares," I reply, "Dean, you have done more for me than you could ever know. I doubt I would have survived this time as a human if you had been here to show me the way. I believe I am the one who doesn't deserve you. I am… I'm useless."

You look up at me again, upset, and tell me, "Don't say that. Don't ever say that."

"Why not? It's true," I respond simply, "I am not good at anything. I'm bad at hunting, at shooting, at everything. I can't do anything."

"No. I don't care. You're not useless."

"But, Dean-"

"Stop it, Cas. You know what? You really did help me just now. I dunno how but… as soon as you touched me, I could tell it was you, and that nightmare just vanished and… and I just felt so safe and calm and peaceful like I haven't in years. It was like what you said about our 'profound bond' leading you here because you felt my distress. I knew it was you helping, and it really did help. Just… thank you, Cas."

"You don't need to thank me. It's my duty to help you in whatever way I can, as someone who cares for you deeply."

There's the ghost of a smile on your lips. I lean in and press my forehead to yours. I desire to be close to you, to breathe your air. I long for the closeness we had when I still possessed my Grace, when you only had to think my name for me to appear at your side. My eyes suddenly feel wet. You place your other hand on my cheek and whisper, "It'll be okay, Cas. We'll help you get your Grace back. We'll take on that bastard Metatron and set you right, okay?"

"You don't like me without my Grace, Dean?" I ask, hurt and confused.

You just told me that you don't care about it, now you say I'm wrong without it. I don't know what to think now.

"I don't like that you're not happy," you tell me, "You're unhappy because you don't have your Grace. I figure if we get that back, then… then you'll be happy. That's all I want… for you to be happy."

Our noses bump together. We are breathing in time. I feel that I could almost guarantee our hearts are beating in sync. Even the smallest of movements will press our lips together, and I cannot decide if that would be good or not. I bring up my other hand, letting my thumb rub along your jawline, stroking your stubble. I wonder if you know how much I love you. We cannot seem to look in each other's eyes. I wonder if you know _you _love _me_. My head twitches slightly, making my lips ghost over yours, just barely touching. Your fingers tighten on my face. I think perhaps you want to kiss me. Human emotions are very tricky.

Several tense seconds pass, feeling like hours and months and ages of the Earth, before you move. You tilt your head, your lips brushing mine with more pressure, and drop your head onto my shoulder. My hands still cup your face, and I cannot stop myself from mashing my nose into your hair and breathing deeply. I can feel you do the same in my shirt. My eyes still feel wet.

"Cas…" you mumble into my shoulder, "Cas, I want you to stay here tonight… with me."

"You want me to sleep with you, Dean?" I ask, puzzled.

You let out a low laugh and reply, "Sort of, but not like that. I actually just wanna sleep. Just want you here when I do. You keep the nightmares away. Please, Cas… stay with me."

I don't even need to think about my answer: "Of course I will. I would be happy to."

I feel your smile in my soul, as I had felt it before in my Grace. You gently lay us down in your bed, and the way we slot together, the way our bodies fit like puzzle pieces is perfect to me, like God made us just for each other.

I wonder if you will ever kiss me, how soon you will kiss me, how you will kiss me. I pull your body closer to mine and butt my forehead up against your temple. Your arms tighten around my waist. I wonder if you know you love me.


End file.
